Gotham: Tempest Rising (DC/Superhero/IC)

[Personal Freedom]

OOC
South Gotham, 1:00 AM
Outside a fenced and gated warehouse owned by Gotham University a mid-size truck prepares to unload it's contents, a number of electrical devices that were found to have no practical use. After being waved in by the guard, the two men responsible for unloading the truck get out so they can open the warehouse's door.

"Ya would think they would have made it so you could open the door from the outside by now," grumbled one of the two men, a portly, balding, fellow in his mid-thirties.

"Well, it's not a problem for day time deliveries. They always have a couple of people working to archive this shit. They open the door as soon as they see the trucks coming," his companion, a man about the same age and dimensions, answered.

"Well, it really grinds my gears. The whole building is about a hundred years behind the times. Ya know, there are only two guards working in the night? There's the guy at the front and some other guy who wanders about the building here. I've never seen him around though. He must hide when he should be opening the door and helping us out."

"It's a big building," his partner offered as he opened the front door and walked up to front desk.

"Yeah, well it ain't that big. Make sure ya fill out the book on the desk here saying we dropped this off. Boss's been onta me about that recently. Why is it so goddam dark? What is this guy, some sorta vampire? Hit the light will ya?"

As he said so his partner made his way over to the light switch and flicked it on only for a bright white flash to blind both of them.

"AAAAAH! Shit! What the hell? I can't see," one of them muttered as he stumbled around feebly. As the men's vision began to return they became aware of swirling colors...

Ten minutes later the guard at the front saw the truck depart. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. It wasn't until the guards showed up for the changing of shifts that they found the warehouse guard tied up in the back and the book logging no delivery.

---

Gugenheim Asset Management Building, Downtown Gotham, 9:00 AM
A white van for the Atlas Construction Company parks across around the front of the building. Three well-dressed men get out and stair at the skyscraper in front of them. One pulls out a protractor and looks up at the top of the building. Another takes a picture of the building. Soon all three waled into the building's lobby. One of them, a thirty-something man with shiny, black hair approaches the reception desk and speaks to the receptionist.

"Yes, my name is Stefan Galios, and I'm with the Atlas Construction Company. My colleagues and I are looking for potential buildings to install mooring masts on for dirigible airships. The angle of this building's roof is correct. Is there anyone I can speak to about installation?"

[Shark isle]

The Fighting Sailor Pub
East Gotham

A tall, lanky man walked into the Pub. He was immediately greeted with the sounds of Irish music, clinking glasses and the sounds of cheering and hooting from the various guests. One of the gusts turned to him and said with a thick Irish accent," Hey Zachariah, come over here." Zachariah grinned. The man talking to him was Patty O'Flanaggin, one of his men. Zachariah's full name was Zachariah Conley, but he preferred to be called The Celt. As Patty sat down, he asked his friend, " Did ya do that what i asked ya to do? Also, did you start the tape?" Patty nodded and said," Yes, they will find the guy dead in the junkyard with a bullet in between his eyes. They will also hear the Banshee's wail, like you specifically said." Zach nodded and said, Good, get the boys and tell them to bring the van over. I got a new job for them."

Gotham Museum
3 hours later.
The Security guard was about to start his rounds when he suddenly heard what sounded like inhuman wailing near the museum's entrance. The guard immediately ran towards the museum's entrance, trying to locate the source of the wailing. The guard then opened the doors to the museum to see if the wailing was coming from outside. Suddenly, the guard collapsed dead, with a bullet hole in the middle of his head. Suddenly, the wailing stopped and a van pulled up to the museum's entrance. Zachariah stepped out from the van along with 5 other men. Zachariah grinned when he saw the body and said," The Banshee's prediction is never wrong my friend." Zachary and his men then stepped over the body and into the museum. Once inside, Zacharia pulled out a picture of a hooded lady wailing over a grave and said," This is the Banshee's Lament, we are here specifically for this painting. Find it." The men nodded and started to search the museum for the painting.

[Asterdan]

Lucas Calhoun
Bat-Slayer

---

Night, when the scum of Gotham liked to play their games. The facade of Good vs Evil, Villain vs Vigilante, the whole charade made Lucas sick to his stomach. They were all criminals, fighting each other like rabid dogs, or in this case bats. That was why he created the armor, and that was why he had petitioned the government to allow him jurisdiction in his hometown of Gotham City, using his military expertise and the armor to finally bring peace, justice, and order to the streets of Gotham.

This was why he took to the sky every night, flying over the skyline of Gotham City, over the towers and above the cars below, watching with a well-trained eye, waiting for the opportunity to take another criminal off the streets. That's when he saw the van at the museum. He radioed in, telling GCPD what he saw and that he would be checking it out. The armored man changed his course, flying down towards the steps and landing with a gentle THUD as he deactivated the jetpack.

Raising his arms, and the two mini railguns that were mounted on them, he slowly stepped into the museum, activating his night vision so as to see in the dark. Stepping over the downed guard, Lucas Calhoun, the Bat-Slayer, began the usual spiel.

"GCPD, come out with your hands up!" he called, "If you resist, be prepared to be met with lethal force! You have encountered the Bat-Slayer!"

[Sterkistan]

Marc Spector
Moon Knight
8:00pm

---

"Vengeance is swift, vengeance is cold, and Kohnshu lusts for blood." Marc repeated the phrase over and over in his head, the setting sun letting him know that Moon Knight was needed.
He got up from the luxurious couch and took off his suit jacket, in effect, removing the disguise that was low-scale billionaire Steven Grant. And becoming Moon Knight as he put on the pitch black bodysuit, followed by the stark-white armour that covered his torso, legs and arms. Finishing the look, he put on the silver/white cloak.

Marc finished his kit, grabbing his truncheon, darts and knuckledusters. "Look out Gotham..."
Were his only words as he tapped a button on his phone, standing on the roof of his apartment, overlooking the crime-infested city. At the Gotham airfield, one of the hangars flicked to life, bought by under an alias whose boss was an alias with a boss who's an alias. The hangar doors rolled open, and the mysterious craft inside floated out, lifting into the air and toward Marcs' location. The Mooncopter, a marvel of engineering, a two-seater cockpit with a crescent moon behind it that rotated for flight or landing. Powered by three modified Waynetech engines, the rear two rotating between flight and landing. Finishing it all off, three 20mm cannons for armament, the third one underneath the cockpit and rotating.

The rope ladder came down, Marc leapt from the 40 storey building, gripping the rungs with iron strength as it ascended back into the helicopter.

---

Later that night

Marc had his phone in his hand, sitting atop a building, memorizing the streets and alleys of Gotham. When he saw an armoured man tear through the sky above him, landing at the nearby museum. Marc followed him, stopping on the rooftop of a building overlooking the museum, there was a Van parked in front, and the doors were wide open.
Marc leapt from the rooftop, grabbing his cape and extending it. It unfolded into a crescent moon shape and he glided along, clearing the edge and landing on the roof quietly. Taking a look through the skylights to see what was going on.

[Shark isle]

Zachariah's men immediately responded a volley of gunfire towards Bat-Slayers general direction. During this time, Zachariah and one of his henchmen, a tall, muscular Hispanic man, ran from the gunfire towards the gallery.

[Futrellia]

Nightwing
Jackson Street
Heading North to Wayne Manor

---

Speeding through the dimly lit streets, Dick Grayson raced along on the Wingcycle, his newest toy. Nightwing had a version of it during his days as Robin, but it was nothing like this. Armed with twin machine guns in the front, puncture-proof tires, autopilot set to follow the orders of his wristmounted control panel, EMP charge dispenser to shut down any electronics around it, and a self-destruct capability, for those dire times. Along Jackson Street, he dodge light traffic in the area.

"Firebrand, I'm asking you. Wait until I get back. You take on Blockbuster by yourself, you'll come back in pieces. Just stay at Command. I won't be gone long, but I can't ignore Gotham or Batman either. If he's asking me to come back, it's because he needs me. I thought we agreed to this, you and Tarantula disrupt Blockbuster's operations but don't engage him directly. He's going after me, and he won't think twice in dumping your bodies in the river." Said Nightwing, the noise of his bike's engine nearly drowning him out.

"I'll set that bastard aflame before he can even touch me. Just you watch. You never had much faith in me or Tarantula, and I'm starting to wonder if this "partnership" is gonna work out. I said I'd team with you as equals, and you're not behaving like an equal. I don't need you, or this little cave/shrine to your Batman. Firebrand, out." The hero said before cutting transmission with him.

"Firebrand? Firebrand! Ugh." Mumbled Nightwing, peeling a right then a sharp left, going onto Suffolk Street. He knew this team wouldn't pan out. Firebrand was too proud, Tarantula bordered between vigilante and villain. Right now, she was probably out gutting some robber or mugger. He tried working with what he had, but their differences would be the end of their partnership. He knew that if Firebrand went after Blockbuster alone, he would die. In all truths, he needed Firebrand and Tarantula, not just as allies, but as bait. When the time came, he would deploy the two and keep him occupied, and wait for his moment to strike. It was manipulative, cunning, almost ruthless, everything Nightwing didn't want to bring from home. He thought his time as Robin would have prepared him to have a city of his own. He wanted to be Bludhaven's less-than-caped crusader. The first few months went exactly as planned. He targeted drug dealers, muggers, lowlifes, gangsters, corrupted cops, he even took down a top ranking general who used Bludhaven as his red light getaway. Then he met Firebrand, nearly arrested Tarantula, and then Blockbuster. Everyone else was what Dick could get a handle on. Blockbuster's corruption went all the way to the top, even having the mayor in his pocket. He made the mistake of going after him single handedly, and almost didn't make it out. If it wasn't for the Wingcycle's autopilot and twin guns, he would have had his head crushed under Blockbuster's foot. As much as he wanted to reminisce and brainstorm future operations with his little group of dishonest heroes, he had come within communication and radar range of the Batcave. He figured he'd make his presence known. Using the Comm Control on his bike, he switched stations to Bruce's encrypted channel, which the Wingcycle entered as soon as they entered range.

"Batman? It's me. I'll be there in five." Was all he had to say to him. Talking on any channels, even encrypted was dangerous and there was rules to them. No personal names, short sentences, no locations. All of that had to be spoken in private and in person, or at least those were the rules when he left to be Nightwing in Bludhaven.

[Tarnen]

"Ha HA hA Ha ha." that maniacal laughter filled the padded cell of which he called home. The doctor in front of him showing the slightest ounce of fear desperately trying to keep his composure in front of the Ace of Knaves himself, the Joker. "Ahem." the doc quietly interjected as he shuffled the cards in his hand. The Joker's staring intently at Doctor Stevens as he was handed two cards. "So Joker why do you feel the need to harm others especially the Batman?" Joker simply looked at the cards he was handed as he shifted his eyes towards Stevens. "Well Doc it all started with my father you see... Growing up I just starved for his attention..." picking up his card which showed a king. "So that's what this has all been about attention?" The joker flipped the card now showing his patented Joker card then suddenly two. He started laughing again as he threw them one slicing Steven's face the other pinning his shoulder to the wall. "Hehehe are you kidding me Stevie-boy hurting people is too much fun especially Bats...hahahaha!" suddenly the alarm signalling a breakout pierced the cell "Oh darn looks like that's the end of our session but don't fret i leave you with a parting gift..." Suddenly the room starting to fill with a green gas "Good ol' Joker Venom guaranteed to curl your toes and put a smile on that mug of yours." Patting his cheek as he grabbed his keys walking towards the exit as the Doctor start laughing his face slowing turning into a Cheshire like grin.

He walked into a corner as the wall blew open a school bus smashed through the wall. "Looks like my ride is here Doctor." He laughed aloud as he boarded the back of the bus as it pulled out of the hole "So long Arkham until we meet again HAHAHAHA." closing the door as the bus left Arkham and back into Gotham.

[Asterdan]

Zachariah's men immediately responded a volley of gunfire towards Bat-Slayers general direction. During this time, Zachariah and one of his henchmen, a tall, muscular Hispanic man, ran from the gunfire towards the gallery.

A man in full armor and two miniguns on his wrist shows up, and people decide shooting at him is the best course of action? Calhoun thought to himself, shaking his head as bullets pinged off of the armor.

The Bat-Slayer armor was sturdy, but it wouldn't last forever. He would have to hurry and end this before it began to fail. Raising his arms, the two miniguns began to spin, preparing to fire. Lucas took careful aim, deciding quickly that a simple sweep would get the best results. Aiming his arms directly in front of him a spray of bullets began erupting from the wrist-mounted weaponry.

Slowly he turned his arms away from each other, the bullets creating a stream of death which slowly made their way across the room, before returning to the center as he brought his arms back together. Bat-Slayer began to activate the jetpack, preparing a quick move to cover, covering himself with the streams of bullets.

[The New Velociraptor Empire]

Arkham Asylum

---

Dr. Monroe hadn't been seen for days since his last experiment, the fact that he worked alone and hadn't been filing reports on his progress started raising suspicions. After the third patient at Arkham Asylum in his experiments going missing, the time had come to see what exactly he was doing. Doctors from Gotham University and the Asylum were closing in to audit his lab, unfortunately, the Joker's latest escape had put a hold on the investigation. Even if it wasn't for this incident, Monroe had left with all his research and samples days ago when he hadn't started hiding his face.


Gotham University

---

Monroe's ID card still worked as he entered the genetics lab, intending to borrow some equipment. He had already filed his sabbatical with the Dean via e-mail yesterday once he realized his transformation was becoming harder to conceal. Monroe started wearing a trenchcoat, surgical mask, and sunglasses to cover up the mutations when he was in public, never going out in the day anymore. He had little time, those fools were finally going to shut down his research even though he was successful. He couldn't let them stop what he worked so hard to achieve, he was on the verge of something great. Monroe loaded up a dolly with samples and as much equipment he could fit in his car, vital equipment to making the Mutanium. Ah, here was something to prove useful, a piece of equipment carelessly left near the lab rat cages, a syringe gun, quite useful for delivering his creation. Monroe fiddled with the cold metal gun in his hand pondering why he thought he might need it. He took some Mutanium from his pocket and loaded it into the empty needle. With his claw he ripped the cage open and took an albino rat. Jabbing the needle in he extracted a little of the rat's blood, mixing it with the Mutanium in a crude manner. What shall this create? Nevermind, In any case, Monroe would need more than this, he needed funding that the University wouldn't provide and equipment he would probably be barred from using once his failures were discovered at the Asylum.

There would be plenty of people who might want to weaponize this, and in turn for their support, he could continue his research. Well, where would he find someone interested in such an arrangement?

[Personal Freedom]

Bone
Outside the Gotham Art Museum
"Damn. What does it take to acquire art these days," the scarred figure mumbled to his skull mask donning henchmen. From the vantage point of a hill overlooking the outline of the classical Greece inspired museum,it was evident that not only had someone else already decided to liberate the artwork inside the building, but there was combat. The screeches of an alarm flashes of light and the echoes of bullets betrayed the presence of multiple interested parties. Bone had not expected this and stood silent for several minutes as he thought about how to proceed.

"Well, there wasn't anything in there I particularly wanted, and the boss would probably have us not get involved, yet this gives me an idea. Perhaps this is an opportunity... I'll be nearby. If you see anyone fleeing the scene contact me," he commanded, grinning as he spoke. With a simple nod the men dispersed. They would watch the building and see if anyone entered or left the building. If trouble was to materialize, be it a hero, or the police who would surely be arriving swiftly they were ready to flee.

Bone decided to walk a short distance away to an area with better cover than the hill. In one hand he had his Glock handgun ready in anticipation. Perhaps the pillager would be Catwoman. He was more than ready to deal with his adversary now. He had made sure of it. He had been studying her movements, her contacts... her romances. In this day and age video surveillance was hard to avoid and easy to acquire, for the right pay. The boss wouldn't want this conflict. He would have wanted her as part of the other plan, but he wasn't here... and yet he got the feeling that maybe she wasn't here as well.

[Sterkistan]

Zachariah's men immediately responded a volley of gunfire towards Bat-Slayers general direction. During this time, Zachariah and one of his henchmen, a tall, muscular Hispanic man, ran from the gunfire towards the gallery.

-SNIP-

Marc Spector
Moon Knight

---

As the gunfight began, Marc trailed the two fleeing men from the rooftop, glancing down through the skylight to make sure he was following them as they ran further into the gallery.
Marc saw his chance, leaping onto the skylight and bringing his knuckleduster down onto it. Crashing through before extending his cape to land in front of the fleeing perps.
"Hold it." Marc yelled, drawing two crescent moon darts from his belt and throwing them at their gun hands.

[Bycrest]

First Bank of Gotham

The bank's alarm systems were completely disabled, no one would know what occurred tonight until it was too late. The grunts moved in an cleaned out the vault with joy, relieved they finally got an easy payday.

"This has gotta be our easiest payout eva' . All we had to do was walk in an' just take the cash." one of the grunts said.

"Yeah, we gotta work for this Riddler guy more often. Why do so many people have a problem with him again." the other grunt asked.

"I don't know, something about him leaving riddles at his crime scenes. As long as I get paid, I don't care what he's into."

"And you shall be paid gentlemen, you've done a wonderful job." A man in a green suit with a question mark cane came walking in behind them. He looked around and saw that the vault had been thoroughly emptied. He reached into his suit and pulled out a card. "Now go put the money in the truck so we can get out of here. I'll be there shortly."

The grunts left with the money in tow as Riddler stepped up the center table in the vault and leaves a box with a question mark on it, which was actually a holographic projector, behind so he could communicate with whoever find it. That way he'd have a fun time messing with the Bat whenever he showed up. This would only be the first step to his plan to beat the Bat and prove his intelligence. Riddler walk back to the truck where the grunts were waiting for him and they fled the scene.

[Rynagria]

Kevin Torino

Hands deeps inside his pockets, Kevin gazed upon an eighteen wheeler in front of him, having been parked in the loading bay of a warehouse of sorts. (Different from place from the OP.)

Only several meters away, Kevin walked forward and fished something out from a satchel hanging to his side. Blindly searching, his left hand hand finally found it and pulled a small, red clay-like cube into the light of the lamppost. Satisfied, he continued his stroll only to be confronted by one of the guards. An Italian dressed in dark clothes, leveled the pistol that he held at his chest. "Turn around before I light you up!" He ordered, causing Kevin to look at him, disdain all over his face. Before anything else can be said, Kevin drew his own weapon out and fired three rounds into his chest. Nothing to stop nine millimeter rounds, they entered the thug's body without problem, falling to the floor.

Others have surely heard the gunfire, so let's get this over quickly.

Head on a swivel, his eyes scanned his surrounding as he picked up the pace and jogged over to the truck. None having come so far, he quickly unlatched the door open right after he holstered his Beretta M93R towards his back. Switching hands, he placed the cube in his right and his left diving back down in the satchel. In a matter of seconds, he pulled out a contraption with a grenade pin then slapping them together. Molding the cube into a oblong, the material now engulfed the contraption with the exception of the pin. Once that was done, Kevin quickly drew the pin and threw the grenade looking object inside of the truck. Only seconds to run away, Kevin broke out into a dead sprint away from the truck, which exploded into one huge ball of fire. While this caused him to stumble, did not hinder him in the long run. A target of opportunity destroyed, his goal was accomplished in about a minute, motivated by the possibility of him encountering a large group when he's severely ill prepared for such conflict. It was only when Kevin had just rounded the street that the other members of the group got out, only to discover that the person who destroyed a truck full of merchandise and killed one of their colleagues had already gotten away.

Relieved as he continued to his getaway, he made his way to his parked Sedan, Quickly going inside, slipped the key into the ignition and let the engine come to life. With haste, drove as far away from the place as possible. Kevin would slow down once he knew that no one was after him after fifteen minutes of driving through shortcuts. Unfortunately, this placed him a few blocks away from the gunfight that had ensued between Bat-Slayer and presumably some other unfortunate souls to have run into that idiot. Best not get involved directly, let the GDCP handle it.

[Shark isle]

As Zachariah heard the sound of rapid gunfire behind him he thought to himself," I got to get the painting and get out of here." Suddenly, a white-clad individual dropped down from the celing and throw moon-shaped darts at his and his henchman's hands. The dart meant for Zachariah missed, but his henchman was hit on the arm. As the henchman gripped his arm in pain, Zach saw the painting he was looking for. He immediately dashed for it, grabbed it and made a run for the fire exit. Meanwhile, the henchman removed the dart from his arm and took a swing at Moonknight.

[Shadowwell]

GCPD Commisioner's Office
Officer Jerry Caldwell

Commisioner Gordon, was in his office along with a few other select individuals. Among them was a certain reinstated Officer of the GCPD, Officer Caldwell. He was taller than average, around 6 foot even in height, he had tousled black hair and a slim athletic build. As everyone settled in, James Gordon spoke, "Everyone one of you knows the current state of our city. In the beginning we had to put up with it, and Batman did bring some good changes, but all the criminals who have risen to oppose him are infinitely more dangerous than those before them. Due to this, the city and us at the GCPD, have been forced to take certain measures against the Vigilantes that have been cropping up." The Commissioner paused for a moment before he gestured towards Jerry who was sitting near the entrance.

"Some of you might recognize Officer Caldwell, he was an Officer with us, who has certain abilities, that was let go due to the mayors initial policy and public unrest. He was recently brought back, to help with the influx of Vigilantes and Criminals. There are other similar agents assisting the GCPD on the streets as we speak. Does anyone have any questions about this or anything?" As Gordon finished speaking, Jerry remained silent, but e gazed around the room, he would be getting more acquainted with those here, so it was good to observe them, to some degree.

[Sterkistan]

-Snip-

Marc Spector
Moon Knight

---

Moon Knight took the hit. And although he was a little staggered, the purpose was to intimidate.
Marc ran at the henchman, driving his knuckleduster bound fist straight for the henchman's chin.

[Shark isle]

-Snip-

Marc Spector
Moon Knight

---

Moon Knight took the hit. And although he was a little staggered, the purpose was to intimidate.
Marc ran at the henchman, driving his knuckleduster bound fist straight for the henchman's chin.

Marc would hear a crack as his fist hits the man's jaw. The man immediately fell to the ground, unconscious. Meanwhile, Zachariah found the fire exit and pushed it open, setting off an other alarm. Zach than ran into the Gotham night, still clutching the Banshee's Lament. Zach eventually stopped to catch his breath when he was sure he was far away from the museum. Zach then started to walk back towards East Gotham while staying off the streets. He then thought to himself, " That heist could've gone better. But, at least I still have the painting." He then found a abandoned car and hotwired it and drove back to East Gotham.

[Yaana Noore]

---

Bruce Wayne
Gotham Outskirts
Wayne Manor
21:00

"...and then the Governor crashed his racket down on the ground, smashing it to pieces. I said to him 'Mr. Governor, is that mangled mess not the same racket that you bought at the auction last year, the one belonging to Roger Federer?' He stared at it for a moment, then looked back at me. 'Oh, yes, I think it is.' So I asked him how much it cost. He winked at me and said 'Enough for the State treasury to handle another.' The last one cost him more than twenty-thousand dollars!"

The crowd laughed, and Bruce Wayne along with them. "I'd complain about the constant embezzlement of our taxes if it weren't for how much we save by having him in." One added amusedly.

"Amen to that, those tax cuts have saved me a few million, as has all that needless red tape he's gotten rid of. With the gubernatorial coming up he'll be looking for big donors soon as well... I'll be doing so. Better the devil you know. And the more you give, the more say you have..." Quipped one of the bankers.

"You going to chip in, Wayne? You could get him to cut back some of that environmental regulation that's strangling your Tower if you join us all for golf next week."

The billionaire host took another sip of his champagne and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I can't even remember whether I voted for him last time. Hell, I can't even remember if I voted. If I did vote it was whoever my accountants advised me to." He looked to the blonde hanging on his right arm and pulled her in closer to him, lips brushing across her cheek. "You vote for anyone last time?... No?" Bruce asked playfully.

"Was she even old enough last time, Bruce?" One of them joked.

The playboy laughed, "Not sure, how old are you again? The girls at these things get younger every year, I swear."

"Twenty-one." She responded between sips of the best wine.

Bruce smiled and laughed. "So... is that a yes or no? I can't even remember when our last one was."

He didn't pay attention to her response, overhearing some interesting gossip across the table. "...the Governor really does need to reel it in with how much he spends though, or at least not make it so obvious. The Batman might end up coming after him otherwise."

"The Bat? Please. That thug just brutalises street thugs, cops, and freaks in costume. He's not going to go after the bigshots."

"If the Batman actually got the corrupt locked up, then why are we still here?" Wayne added humourously.

"Exactly. He's nothing to us, Martin. Just a boogeyman."

"I guess." Drake Martin, former pro footballer, shuffled uncomfortably. "I guess I'm just a little paranoid as he got my guy last week. I need my blow..."

"The party is great without it anyway. Relax, man." Bruce tapped him on the shoulder, and began to roam around the room. Explore his party. There were politicians to chat with, actresses and models to flirt with, sportsmen to share a drink with, wealthy heirs and heiresses eagerly anticipating their parent's passing to meet, and socialites to socialise with. Gotham was an aristocracy, and Wayne Manor was their assembly.

The blonde turned to him. "I'mma get some more of your wine, if that's okay?" She asked, batting fake eyelashes.

"Of course. My family didn't buy those bottles to waste them gathering dust forever. You know where they are." He slapped her backside as she left to guzzle more of the best wine, watching her go and musing to himself. Lucy Jordan, the young, famous model, with him, at his party, tonight. His mind could not keep from dwelling on the absurdity of it.

Bruce sighed to himself and sat down upon a leather sofa, stretching his legs out and scanning the room. He was very aware of Martin prowling the room for anyone with a number to get him some coke, hundred year-old wine staining his rugs, soigné women on the hunt for sugar daddies, so many wasps infesting his halls that he considered the need for an exterminator, and Lord knows what in the bathrooms. His place. His party. And yet he still felt like it controlled him rather than the opposite.

"Got any plans for tomorrow, Mr. Wayne?" Asked a feminine voice, breaking him from his thoughts. Wayne gave a smirk and glanced to his left.

"That depends on who's asking, and why." Bruce responsed suggestively, looking over to see a woman with platinum blonde hair sitting beside him.

"It's just... you're not drinking." He raised his glass of champagne and gestured it towards her as evidence to the contrary. "Drinking, drinking. That's ginger ale, Bruce. I can smell it. Your breath doesn't stink of champagne like everyone else here. And, y'know, I do pay attention to what is in Bruce Wayne's hand and not just on his arm to notice that you... are not drinking tonight."

"You caught me." He held his hands up, smiling falsely. "Wayne Construction is on the brink of finishing a deal for some of the land opposite Robinson Park tomorrow."

"I thought a lot of that land was devastated after Poison Ivy hit it."

"It was. It will get better though. Somebody's gotta invest in it, or this city is going to rot. It's a good location anyway." He extended his hand towards her. "We haven't properly met. Bruce Wayne."

"Silver. Silver St. Cloud. I sent you an invitation to my last party."

"Oh, yeah. I was in Switzerland. I think."

"Lucky. You were out the city when that moth-freak attacked."

"The Moth?"

"Some weirdo who dresses up like a moth. Uses some sorta cocoon gun. Didn't you see the news?"

"Don't watch it. The butler usually tells me if there's something important."

"Evidently an attack on the city wasn't, at a party you could have been at."

"Probably wouldn't have come anyway."

"I wouldn't have blamed you. So many fake and horrible people. Having to put on a show for them, entertain them, and then make a happy face and pretend I enjoy their vapid bullshit. Makes me feel like a circus freak."

"A socialite who doesn't enjoy socialising?" Bruce raised an eyebrow.

"I have little else to do is all. Same as you though, right? I don't see why you need to pretend to be having fun or drinking for their benefit tonight. You don't need to put on this act. Too many fake people already, you shouldn't waste your time trying to please them."

"Hey Bruceeey!" A tipsy Lucy stumbled towards the sofa and sat in between them, leaning against him, wine bottle at a dangerous angle to his shirt. "Who's this?"

"Silver St. Cloud."

"Never heard of her." She said jealously.

"Oh, I don't do much." Silver responded. "I got lucky and inherited a lot of money is all. Now I get to hang out at fun parties like these all the time. I wasn't, however, lucky enough to get your... talents." She looked through the model to speak to Bruce. "Sorry if I'm disturbing the two of you. I won"t keep you any longer, Bruce... A pleasure meeting you."

"D'ya reckon the name came first or the hair?"

Bruce gave a nonchalant grunt, far more interested in the conversation behind him than the scantily clad model before him.

"...hey, Martin, big fan. But I hear you're looking for a guy who can hook you up, right?"

Drake looked to his left. Nobody paying attention, everyone still at the table. Clear. He looked to the right. Just Bruce Wayne making out with his bimbo. Clear. "Y-Yeah! You know someone, man? Who is it? Can he get me something, like, real quick? Like gimme something tonight? I'm getting pretty desperate."

"Course, here's the number..."

---

Martin stepped away and pocketed his phone, unable to hide a grin. "Thanks, man. I'll hit him up like, as soon as the party's over. I owe you." The ex-footballer turned away and confidently strode forwards, a spring in his step, barging his way past a couple exchanging pleasantries, and then tried to force himself past another, but he was knocked back, almost off his feet.

"Woah, sorry there, man. Too much champagne..." Bruce Wayne chuckled. "Didn't see you coming. You okay there?"

"Yeah, I..." He tried to regain his composure. "You never try out football when you were younger? Quite the build you got."

"Really? Thanks, man. But I never had the knees for that." Bruce patted him on the back, then returned to his date, leaving the shocked athlete to go find his drug dealer.

---

Come eleven, with some pressure from Bruce, the last of his guests were finally leaving. Here's to not hosting another of these for a few months. I hope. All of them... but one.

"Whew, so everybody's gone, huh Brucey? Just me... and you." Scarlet fingernails stroked his chin in a teasing manner.

"No. Just me." He responded coldly.

"Wha?" She tilted her head. Even without the alcohol in her system she'd likely be just as confused.

"You heard. Just me. Taxi's outside. I'm bored with you. Get out."

"How..." she paused to hiccup. "How dare you! You can't just treat me like that. D'ya know who I am?"

"Not really."

"Well when errybody else hears about this, they won't like it... Just you wait."

"I look forward to it. Now again: get out." Bruce watched on unblinking as his model-date stormed out of his manor in a huff. The sound of a door opening beside him made him grimace for a moment, dreading finding another guest that he would need to expel, but it was a welcome face.

"I trust you enjoyed the party as much as you expected, Master Bruce?"

"You know it, Alfred."

[Personal Freedom]

Bone
Outside the Museum
Someone had run from the building, painting clutched to his chest, that was what the guard had said. Yet Bone had no inclination to pursue. See, he had thought about it, and figure no was not a good opportunity to recruit after all. There were clearly vigilantes about, and he had a certain desire to be in one of the mob run nightclubs right now. There was a particularly good-looking exotic dancer who had started working lately.

"Pack it up. No point freezing our asses off out here tonight," he spoke in his radio. A car rolled by on the road nearby and he suddenly frowned. People were always about in the city, it was a hassle really. In a few minutes Bone and his crew had packed themselves into a black Mercedes van crew and were heading towards the White Spider.

"So umm... boss. Why were waiting on the museum anyway? I mean, I don't remember the Family having an interest in those costumed freaks."

"Let's just say I'm acting independently. Quite possibly this will be the single largest windfall in my career," Bone answered with a grin.

"And what if the Family finds out?"

"Let them. They won't take this from me. No one takes anything from me anymore. Not even that damned feline, but she'll learn that one day well enough. This ain't the damned group home."

[Sterkistan]

Marc would hear a crack as his fist hits the man's jaw. The man immediately fell to the ground, unconscious.

Marc Spector
Moon Knight

---

As the man hit the floor Moon Knight swung around to the entrance, knowing he wouldn't catch the mastermind. And upon seeing that bat-slayer had almost finished off the henchmen, he decided he wouldn't stick around. Launching his grapple hook up to the hole he created in the ceiling and making his escape.
Once on the roof, he launched the hook again, this time to an adjacent building so he could watch the sparks fly.

[The Knockout Gun Gals]

Jack Gordon / Observer

"Alright, here is the deal."

Amanda Waller put the papers to him as he sat in front of her. "We have to look for some new fresh blood, and seeing that our previous squad lost half of themselves, we need new people. I have a solution for that. Gotham is the crime-infested city. And we have few potential targets. The Riddler has a genius level intellect. We can hire him in easy or hard way. There is also this...Nightwing. I am not saying there are those two. But there are others as well. You need to find them. And take them to this squad."

"Of course, there are other potential men and women we've looked into. One in particular seems to work with Nightwing, name's Batman. Judging from the tech, either he's the rich person or he has the backing of someone rich. And there aren't a lot of them who have involvement in illegal parts and arms. Bruce Wayne, Oswald Cobblepot, even the so-called Monopoly Man.

Jack currently is with the rest of GCPD officers who were given briefing. His brother James is the Commissioner.

[Asterdan]

An Undisclosed Location Near Gotham City

---

"Sir, Hyena is sedated. We're ready for the shift changes." a soldier commented to his superior who responded by pressing a button.

The new shift entered quickly, checking their weapons an getting into position. As the new soldiers took over their posts, the previous shift quickly filed out of the hidden base. The commander checked his stopwatch, keeping an eye on the screen which showed the creature they were guarding. The time was ticking away and every second counted. The soldiers needed to hurry so he could shut the door.

That's when he saw the flick of movement. He leaned close to the monitor, trying to get a better look. That's when the yellow eyes of the beast opened. He pulled against the chains with all of his strength, and soon they snapped! The soldier hit a button and an alarm began to sound. The soldiers began prepping their weapons, but it was too late. Hyena had timed it all too well. Within minutes the entire facility was full of blood and corpses as the creature walked out the door, letting out a cackle into the night.

In the distance he could see the lights of Gotham and quickly, on all fours, began bounding towards it. That was where his creators were, and that was where his destiny lied.

The Art Museum

---

"Your partner is dead. I have full legal authority to kill you as well." Lucas Calhoun said as he stared through the helmet at the downed gunman, "Tell me who your boss is, and I'll ensure that you make it to prison alive and well."

"If I tell you, then I'm as good as dead!" the man exclaimed.

"So that's your final answer?" Bat-Slayer asked, to which the man replied with a nod, "So be it."

Calhoun raised his arm and fired a single bullet which pierced the mans skull directly between his eyes. Bat-Slayer was now on the hunt. This was going to be an interesti-

"Attention all units, attention all units." a voice came over the radio, "Be on the lookout for Prisoner 49362, that's Prisoner 49362. Contact with the secure facility has been lost and a distress signal was sent out. It is believed that Prisoner 49362, aka Hyena, has escaped."

"Hyena?" Calhoun asked himself, "Who the hell is Hyena? Guess I'll have to go find out."

[Yaana Noore]

---

Batman
Gotham City
00:05

He checked his phone. The guy knew where to meet, so why was he late? Five to twelve. Five to. Not twelve. Not five past. The former footballer's mind quickly turned to the worst case scenario. Was the guy not coming? Had the cops got him? Or had the Bat got him. He shuddered at the thought. The Bat. Could he have found about him from the dealer? What if he was on his way now? Drake was on the brink of fleeing the scene when a black BMW rolled up at the meeting point. He retreated down the alley and gestured for the driver to follow.

He was dressed stereotypically, perhaps overly so. Thick coat over a dark hooded jacket, bright expensive sneakers. Drake worried whether the dealer's appearance could have given himself away. "Woah, ain't you Drake Martin from the Knights? I used to love you, man." He asked.

"Yeah, yeah, just keep it down, man." Drake looked over each shoulder to check the alley was clear. "He could be watching. The Bat."

"Batman? Ay, man, ain't you heard? There was a breakout at Arkham, like, today." He gave a chuckle. "Batman's gotta round up the circus freaks. He's not gonna bother with the small-time like us. Anyways, what is it you want? I got E, ice, chuckles, B..."

"Nah, none of that man, just blow..."

Up above the alley, watching the negotiation take place from overhead, was the Batman. The tracer had been unknowingly placed upon him at the party a few hours ago. Following him to find his drug dealer was a simple task. He wasn't standing for any of the junkies he tolerated at those god awful parties bringing drugs into his home. Though now he was more interested in the products the dealer was peddling.

"Chuckles?" Batman questioned quietly,

"I'm not aware of any substance that goes by that name." Came the response from Alfred. "I will check the databases for anything that it could be."

Noticing that Martin was leaving now, he watched from afar, silently stalking along the roofs. Once he had left the alley, the Dark Knight descended, launching before the man from above.

---

With the deal done, and Martin gone, the dealer began to make his way back from the car. However, a sudden sound from above made him pause. "What the?" Quickly he got out a pistol from the coat. "Who's out there? Show yourself!" Suddenly, he would be overcome by a feeling of pain, and red filled his vision, as something sharp and metal sliced at his hand, causing him to drop the weapon. "Gah! Ow! Fuck... It's you, isn't it? The Batman." Nervously, he laughed. "Never thought you'd come for a guy like me..."

"Tell me what chuckles is." Demanded a voice in the darkness.

"I-I... don't know, I just sell the stuff..." His breathing was getting faster, the way in which he stayed rooted the spot staring ahead suggested he was terrified. Scans confirmed it. The bat leered at him, the dealer retreating his head towards his shoulders.

"A lie." Batman lunged forward, driving his fist into the man's stomach and sending him flying across the alley into the shadows. We can do this the easy way... or the hard way.

"N-No it's fuckin' not, man! Please! Don't hurt me!" He pleaded.

"I'm about to unless you tell me the truth. Were you aware of the decay that drug use causes to your teeth? Let me remove them for you..." From his belt Batman took out a pair of pliers, though just the sight of them led the man to break before any damage could be done.

"Okay! Okay! I'll tell you. Chuckles is some sorta designer drug that's blown up these past few weeks. I don't know exactly what's in it, but I think they use E. It feels good though, really good..."

"Apologies for interrupting but someone has left a message on our communications for you." Alfred cut in, playing a familiar voice over the comms.

"Batman? It's me. I'll be there in five."

He paused. Voice recognition was not required for that one. It was him. He was back. Bad timing though. Aware that the man's eyes were still fixed upon him, he lashed out with a punch to the head, knocking him out cold. "On my way back now. Wait for me." This would not take him long now, and then he would return to meet Dick. Crushing the gun under his boot, he retrieved a pair of handcuffs...

---

By the time he returned to the Batcave, Nightwing was already present. "Good, you're here." He removed his cowl. "Has Alfred told you what has happened? Breakout at Gotham today, the Joker got out. Robbery at First Bank... with some sort of riddle left behind."

"Might I also add that in the last few minutes there was this message left over GCPD communications." Alfred added.

"Be on the lookout for Prisoner 49362, that's Prisoner 49362. Contact with the secure facility has been lost and a distress signal was sent out. It is believed that Prisoner 49362, aka Hyena, has escaped."

Batman raised an eyebrow. "He got out as well then, as I am just now finding out. Not to mention last night, at one of the warehouses belonging to the university... a delivery was missed and the guard found tied up in the back. Might not seem like much compared to all this and I don't want to send you on a goose chase... but my gut tells me it was something more than a simple robbery, Dick. I want you to check it out. I'm going to pay a visit to the bank."

[Sterkistan]

Marc Spector
Moon Knight

---

Instead of hanging around, Moon Knight got a message from the Moon-copters' computer that the First Gotham Bank might have been hit, after a night-guard found the vault empty. So he was off, soaring over the city, memorizing the streets he passed over. As he approached the bank he leapt from the aircraft and it began circling high in the air.

Marc stood by the side entrance to the bank, cracking the doorknob open with his truncheon and creeping into the bank. Surprisingly, none of the alarms went off as he approached the vault, and as he turned the corner he saw it. A bank vault, stripped clean. Except for a card witha green question mark on it. He picked up the card to analyse it, at the same time, Kohnshu appeared to Marc.
"I didn't realize you moved to Gotham." Kohnshu stated coldly.
"You don't tell me what to do." Marc spoke at the air.
"Oh, but I do, I give you the powers, the drive. I could easily find another."
"I'm still doing your work."
"Poorly."
Kohnshu vanished and Marc continued to analyse the card left in the vault.

[Eraus]

Aaron Darklynn
Dark Tower, Sub-Level A

University owned warehouse, what would cause somebody to break into that? He thought has he prepared himself

Aaron had heard of all the other incidents but from the looks of it. It seemed that one of them had already gone to shit, some government agent in a armored suit caused a fire fight at the Art Museum which usually a normal person would avoid firing bullets towards a building filled with priceless art....but Aaron knew not to expect much from a government agent.

He'd recently heard of the breakouts of Joker and somebody called "Hyena"....hoping that Batman would deal with the joker before he'd have to step in. Aaron decided to ignore the bank robbery, he didn't want to deal with all the possibly officers that could be there.

Aaron wanted to see what was in that warehouse and why somebody would steal it. To him it seemed like an easy job, not too much interference from the police or others.

After finally putting his suit on Aaron jumped on his bike. He'd use his entrance into the subway system to get him closer to the warehouse after which he'd surface and hopefully not for long